Do You Love Your Farmer? I Do...

Well, not your farmer, mine... Anyway...

Laura and I have a subscription to a CSA called Happy Tortoise Farm, and normally our share is dropped off at the University of Portland, Laura's place of employment. This week, however, my better half is on Bainbridge Island, and it fell to me to pick up the veggies at the alternate drop-off spot on Alberta street. So I'm thinking, my farmer, Andrew, gets there at 4:30, I'll jump on the bike and make my way up there right as he's arriving and get first pick of the bounty. Which I did. Got all bundled up, mounted my fixie with its 48/18 gear ratio, and made my way, in nearly freezing temperatures, riding into the wind, uphill all the way (did I mention I ride a fixie, with a 48/18 gear ratio, and did I mention that such a gear ratio is not particularly suited to climbing [okay, so it's actually kind of a mellow gear ratio, I'm a bit of a candy ass; stop me before I sub-parentheticalize again...]?), to 16th and Alberta. Only to arrive at about 5:00 to find the pick up spot locked, dark and uninhabited. Shit. The pick-up must've been earlier in the day. I'm too late. So I make my way back home (downhill and with the wind to my back, thankfully), thinking I'd miscalculated and forfeited my veggies. Then, at about 6:45, I checked my e-mail and discovered that the pick-up was scheduled from 5:30 to 7:00. I had, ironically, gotten there too early, and didn't have time to make it back by 7:00. So I call Andrew and leave a message, thinking we might be able to meet up somewhere over the weekend for the veggie exchange. Long story short, he calls me back to say that I'm on his way home, and he can drop off the veggies, which you see above. It's an awful lot of trouble to go to for some veggies, to be sure, but how many people can claim such a relationship with the folks who grow their food?

This is why I love my farmer.

Mr. Rodale Goes to Washington

You know that big white mansion the president lives in? The one on Pennsylvania Avenue, with the columns and the fountain and the armed guards? You own that mansion. It's yours, roughly one three hundred millionth of it anyway, and as such your taxes fund its upkeep. When it needs a new roof, you pay for it. When the presidential plumber comes to fix a plugged up toilet (Oh Karl, not again!), it's deducted from your paycheck. When the paint starts to peel, when the floors need waxing, when the furnace craps out... all of that goes on your tab. And mine. We pay for that house. We decide who gets to live in it. Seems to me, we should have a say in what goes on in the yard as well.

Daniel Bowman Simon and Casey Gustowarow have come up with what I think is a pretty good idea: Rather that pay somebody to spend hours mowing that gigantic lawn, why not pay somebody to grow organic produce on it? They're driving around the country in a biodiesel fueled school bus they've converted into what can best be described as an inverted double decker rolling garden to promote their idea. And it's not as crazy an idea as it might sound. There's already a garden on the White House roof (which, per Laura's mandate, is entirely organic). Why not bring it down to ground level where there's room to expand? The fruits and vegetables grown could be sold at the Adams Morgan Farmers' Market. Or they could end up in local school lunches. Or fuel the people who do the difficult and unenviable work of running our nation's Executive Branch. I don't care. I just want to see an organic garden on the White House lawn, so I've added my name to their petition. Roger Doiron, over at Kitchen Gardeners International, also has a petition on behalf of this idea, which he's calling "Eat the View." If you're like me and want to see less grass and more food surrounding that big white house of ours, I invite you to add your voice to these efforts.

This came to my attention by way of last Wednesday's All Things Considered. A lively debate ensued in the comments section on the article's webpage, by the way, in which supporters of organic agriculture did battle with a shill from the Ag lobby. Check it out, along with the story here. Interesting stuff.

Meet the Sextuplets!

Many of you know that from June of 2007 to June of 2008, I did some work as a volunteer with the Eastside Egg Co-op. We harvested eggs from a flock of 50 barred rock hens who lived in a coop at Zenger Farm, and sold them at the Lents farmers' market, and to Pok Pok as well. I gave up my Thursday night shift after a year, but have remained involved with the co-op on an adjunct/pinch hitter basis. The barred rocks are almost three years old now, which means that while there are still a few miles left in the girls, their egg production is dropping. So Patrick and Holly, the chief instigators in this project, ordered up fifty chicks to serve as an eventual replacement flock. And as Patrick and Holly have their hands full with Anastasia, their recently adopted newborn Seattlite, they've farmed out the raising of these birds out to us volunteers. I took a half dozen of the four day old chicks off their hands this afternoon.

These chicks are a different breed from the hens currently out at the farm; they're called black australorps. You no doubt noticed from the photo above that they're not the yellow chicks we've all seen, but rather are mostly black. Hence the name. Once they've grown up, this is what they'll look like, as contrasted with the barred rocks we've been working with for the past year or so (black australorp on the left, barred rock on the right):


They really won't look very different from what we already have, actually. They shouldn't act much different, either. Both breeds are fairly docile and are a good choice for egg production. Here are a couple more photos of the chicks:




So I suppose the question that hangs in the air is, "What's going to happen to the current hens when they're replaced?" Some of them will make their way to backyard hobbyists, while others could conceivably end up on dinner plates; if that happens, they'll make for some tasty fricasee or cacciatore to be sure. These girls have eaten well and are as free-range as they come!

Now Here's Something to Make You Smile...

Down but not out, indeed, LGS!

Jim Kunstler predicted a while back that we'd be seeing a lot more small scale urban agriculture with the decline of cheap oil, and it would seem that his notion is coming true, as evidenced by this rather interesting story on yesterday's Morning Edition. Urban Farming, the group profiled in the story, has already begun to expand beyond its native Detroit, into New York, Newark, Los Angeles, the Twin Cities, St. Louis... What I find really interesting is that rather than following the community garden model, they take a totally open source approach and make their projects available to the community at large; neighbors, volunteers, even the homeless (especially the homeless...) are welcome to give to or take from the project what they can or what they need. What's left over goes to local food banks. Pretty amazing stuff!

I think we'll be seeing more stories like this one in the future: Communities left behind by a shrinking manufacturing economy finding new ways to make do for themselves. It's a shame that so much has to be lost in order for people to rethink their relationship to their surroundings, put it's all part of the game, I suppose. But enough with my cynicism, already. This kind of thing really does give me hope for the future.

The Return of the Butter Man

A lonely flower, struggling to push its way through the asphalt and greet the sun; an apt metaphor for the human condition, no? All right, all right, enough of that pretentious poetic crap... Today was the opening day of the Eastbank Farmers' Market, my neighborhood's arm of the behemoth that is the Portland Farmers' Market. And the vendors were out in full... well, partial force. It was lookin' a little thin, to be honest, but hey, it's the first day. Here's a shot of the eponymous Butter Man:


The Butter Man, aka Ken, is without a doubt the coolest guy at the market, to my mind anyway. Every week he holds down the fort at the Rogue Creamery stall, and does so with dignity and aplomb. The guy never complains, no matter the rain, the humidity, the madding crowds... He just keeps on dishing out the Oregonzola, the Pesto Cheese Curds and the best butter this side of Guernsey with a smile and a wry sense of humor. I'd have Ken as my wingman any day of the week. The guy is a class act. And while we're on the subject of class acts, here's a shot of Heather Hanselmann, of Blue Heron Herbary:


I used to work with Heather at REI, and she's... a character. A very good woman to have on your side, but you DON'T want to be the chip on her shoulder, trust me. She's every bit as tough as she looks. And from what I hear, she's got mad snowboard chops as well. Heather's family has been farming in Oregon since, I don't know, 1672? Or maybe 1972. A long while at any rate. The Hanselmanns' stock in trade is herb starts, and fine ones at that. Moving along, here's a shot of some lettuce and rosemary (I can't remember the vendor):


One of this year's most intriguing newcomers would have to be Solpops. These guys make the most interesting popsicles you'll ever taste. Their flagship product is the cucumber lime jalapeno pop. It's refreshing to be sure, with a little bit of a kick from the pepper, but still mild enough to enjoy on a hot summer afternoon. Here's a shot of the dudes of Solpops:


As I was strolling along, enjoying my popsicle, I ran into my old housemate Garett:


Sorry ladies, but he's married. Hey, I'm straight, and even I think the guy's hot... Garett's an interesting fella. We shared a house, for an all too brief time, with four other guys in deep southwest Portland, on the fringes of Tigard. We called the place Project 53 (it was on 53rd Avenue), and it was a monkey house to say the least. Good times were had and crazy stories were shared in that shack and its numerous outbuildings. Garett's a very talented musician (sponsored by Clif Bar no less), a troubador in the tradition of Tom Waits, or perhaps more accurately, fellow Michigan boy Greg Brown. He also heads up his own production company, which you can check out here.

So that was my day at the season's inauguration of the local market. If you live in Southeast, swing by next Thursday, or visit your own market and support your local farmer!

"Twenty Five Thoughts From a Locavore"

I ran across what I think are some pretty inspiring musings on supporting one's community and local economy recently, in this piece that was published in the newsletter of West Philly's White Dog Cafe in commemoration of their 25th Anniversary. I've never been to the White Dog (near as I can piece together, it's more or less the Chez Panisse of Philadelphia), but I've admired Judy Wickes' and Kevin Von Klause's approach to food and community ever since picking up their White Dog Cafe Cookbook back about ten years ago, and I thought I'd share this. A few of these notions are in one way or another specific to Philadelphia or the Mid-Atlantic region, but for the most part these are applicable to any community, so enjoy:

1 - Locally owned businesses provide unique character to the streets of our towns and cities.
2 - Buying local builds community wealth, while buying from chainstores drains capital from our community.
3 - Local merchants - the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker - provide personal relationships that enrich community life.
4 - Supporting local musicians, artists, writers and artisans strengthens our creative class and builds local identity.
5 - Producing basic needs locally builds regional self-reliance, reducing our dependency on long distance supply routes, easily disrupted by climate change and the rising cost of oil.
6 - Buying locally produced products cuts the carbon emissions of transport.
7 - Eating local food strengthens family farms and increases food security for our region.
8 - Buying local renewable energy such as wind power and biodiesel increases our energy security while protecting our environment.
9 - Localizing clothing productions decreases imports of this basic need, building self-reliance. Let's legalize hemp, the natural fibercrop for our region.
10 and 11 - Food from the industrial system has been modified to extend shelf life for long distance shipping and conformity of size and color, while reducing flavor and nutritional value. Food grown locally is more nutritious. And it tastes better!
12 - Fresh beer tastes better, too, and eliminates preservatives needed for shippoing.
13 - Locally owned businesses make larger charitable contributions to community causes as a percentage of their sales than do chain stores.
14 - Supporting and honoring local heroes builds community pride and encourages civic activism.
15 - Engagement in local politics - supporting candidates, running for office, and taking a stand on local issues - builds responsible government that protects our place.
16 - Local independent media covers events important to our community and provides views independent of large corporate ownership.
17 - Local knowledge - the history of our place, understanding where our water, energy and food comes from, and where our garbage and waste goes to - supports wise decision making that protects our natural environment and culture, and builds a healthier and happier region.
18 - Investing locally through local banks, credit unions, and The Reinvestment Fund, puts our capital to work locally, providing a "living return" - the benefit of living in a healthier community and stronger local economy.
19 - Drinking local tap water cuts out wasteful plastic bottles, long distance shipping and the draining of aquifers in other communities.
20 - Buying from locally owned companies brings economic control to our communities away from distant board rooms where decisions are not always made in the best interest of local communities.
21 - Buying local spreads ownership, wealth and power more broadly, which builds a stronger democracy rather than concentrated wealth and corporate rule.
22 - Buying from local producers allows greater transparency. Whether tracing contaminated spinach or children's toys, local production allows exact identification and first hand relationships with producers who reside in our own community.
23 - Local traditions - festivals, parades and annual gatherings - provide collective joy. (Like the Mummers Parade and White Dog's annual New Years Day PJ Brunch). Having fun doesn't mean we have to burn carbons and dollars travelling to exotic vacation destinations. We can create fun at home.
24 - Making a commitment to a place and taking responsibility for its care and well-being is personally grounding, meaningful and satisfying.
25 - Being a part of a local community brings a sense of belonging and security that money cannot buy.

More Good Press for Eastside Eggs!

Portland is truly an amazing place. People here are just plain unwilling to accept the status quo, and as a result innovation becomes a part of the daily routine, be it in technology, art, music, or especially, food... As regular readers of this blog know, since last summer I've been volunteering with Eastside Eggs, a community egg co-operative which was organized by Patrick Barber and Holly McGuire over at Henwaller.com, in conjunction with a local agricultural park called Zenger Farm. We maintain a flock of nearly fifty free-ranging barred rock hens and collect their eggs to sell to 47th Avenue Farm CSA subscribers, as well as at the Lents Farmers' Market in the summer (and yes, the volunteers do get free eggs out of the deal, lest you think we're doing this for purely altruistic reasons). This would have been considered a somewhat radical idea back in my hometown of Saginaw, MI, but to me the idea of having a hand in producing the food that nourishes me, and more importantly, my community seems perfectly logical, and it's been an immensely rewarding experience. And others are taking notice as well. Eastside Eggs just got a write-up in the Spring 2008 edition of Edible Portland, and was the subjuct of a short video produced by the folks over at Cooking Up a Story, which I've posted above. Have a look!

While it's easy for those of us who live in places like Portland to assume that we inhabit a tiny bubble of progressive values surrounded by a darker, uglier, meaner nation, the fact of the matter is that this sort of thing is happening all over America. People are shelving their TVs, getting out and meeting their neighbors, embracing crazy new ideas and generally flipping the metaphorical bird to what I'll call, for lack of a better way of putting it, the machine; in short, Americans are learning to live like human beings again. And I for one find that very exciting indeed!

Chicken the Bird, Chicken the Food...

I took Mom out to Zenger Farm today to meet the poultry. We headed down to the edge of the farm to gather up some windfall pears, which the chickens really dig. Here's Mom distributing the goods:


Once the eggs were collected and the hens secured in their coop, we headed just up the road to the newly-opened Cava. For Apps, we ordered the olive tapenade and the cheese plate, which featured Cana de Cabra (I seem to be running into a lot of canas lately), as well as an excellent french sheep cheese. Unfortuately, I forgot to ask what it was. It may have been a basque sheep cheese, such as Brebis or Ossou Iraty... I'm not sure. Might have to give them a call and find out. As for entrees, Mom ordered the pan-fried Pork Milanese sandwich with ham, gruyere and mustard, which was quite tasty. I opted for the Moroccan spiced roast chicken with stewed eggplant and peppers on couscous:


I hope it wasn't someone they knew.

Eastbank's Last Hurrah

September 27th is photo essay day here at Casa del Belmont... So to wit, some images of a bittersweet occasion, the Eastbank Farmers' Market's very last day of the season:












We'll miss you too, Butter Man, we'll miss you too...

Eastside Eggs Gets Its First Restaurant Account!

The cooperative egg farming operation I've been working with lately, the Eastside Egg Co-op (sorry, no website, but you can read occasional updates and news here), will be supplying eggs to the Oregonian's choice as 2007's restaurant of the year, Pok Pok. They'll be using our eggs in two dishes to begin with, Yam Khai Dao, a fried egg salad, and Kai Krapao Khai Dao, a chicken and bean stir fry served with jasmine rice and a fried egg. Next time you're in the mood for some Northern Thai street food inspired grub, swing by and try some of our eggs!

What the hell do I do with all these tomatoes?

I've been trying to cultivate some weeds in the garden this summer, but so far all I've come up with is this nasty tomato infestation:


Well, like they say, when life hands you tomatoes, make tomatoade, right? So I gathered up a number of the more ripe specimens in my garden, 19 to be exact, and set about preserving them. It's really pretty easy. First, grow some tomatoes. Or pick them up at the farmers' market. Or, all else failing, buy them at your local grocery store. Then get yourself some jars:


Now, blanch the tomatoes for one minute in boiling water, then shock them in ice water. This makes the tomatoes much easier to peel. Once you've got them all peeled, pack them into the jars, fill the jars to a half inch from the top with near-boiling water, and add some bottled lemon juice (2 Tbsp per quart, 1 Tbsp per pint; I used pint jars, and added an additional tsp of lemon juice to each jar just to be on the safe side). This is very important, the reason being that ripe tomatoes are not by themselves acidic enough to stave off botulism. And trust me, you don't want to be eating botulistic tomatoes six months from now. Or ever. The added lemon juice will create a sufficiently acidic environment. And yes, you DO need to add acid even if you're using a pressure canner. Just make sure it's not lysergic acid. Save that for your next "lost weekend."

Of course, you'll want to place the lids back on the jars and screw on the rings, but you knew that... Next, place the jars into a bath of boiling water. For pints, boil the jars for at least 40 minutes, for quarts, at least 45 minutes. If you live more than 1,000 feet above sea level, add five minutes. If you live more than 3,000 feet above sea level, add ten minutes. If you live more than 6,000 feet above sea level, invest in an oxygen tank. It should be noted that when you put your jars into the boiling water, the temperature will go down a bit, so start timing once the temperature of the water is back up to 212F, or when the water comes to a rolling boil.

After the speicified amount of time, remove the jars from the water bath. A jar lifter (available at your local hardware store for about $10) will come in very handy here. Let the jars cool, then store them in a cool dry place outside of direct sunlight. What you end up with will look something like this:


Of course, I'm not a food scientist, and you could be forgiven for being skeptical of my instructions. Check out the University of Missouri Ag Extension's guidelines (basically the same ones I used) here for your own peace of mind. Then can yourself some tomatoes!

Arise, poultry condo development, ARISE!!!

I hopped on the bike and headed out to Zenger Farm today to meet up with (left to right...) Patrick, Holly and Craig to put some finishing touches on the chicken coop. If you look closely, it appears as though Holly is wearing a propeller beanie. This was actually not the case; I have no idea what the "propeller" is. A bird preparing to land on her head, perhaps... At any rate, the coop was painted last weekend, and at some point this past week it was moved to its current spot in one of Zenger's fallow fields, where it will live for a while, by the folks from the 47th Avenue Farm.

The first order of the day was to get the canvas stretched over the sides and one end, and once that was accomplished, it began to look something like a finished product, as you can see in the photo above. Here's an interior shot:


Here we see Patrick contemplating the directions for putting together the nesting box assembly:


And here are the nesting boxes in assembled form:


The nesting boxes, incidentally, are where the real action happens. This is where the eggs are laid. I'm told that chickens have a very sharing nature, and that six boxes will be perfectly adequate for the fifty of them... we'll see. The wheels are yet to come, as are the chickens themselves. We were supposed to take stock of the hens last Wendesday, but the farmers we're getting them from ran into a delay. It shouldn't be long, though, and we'll soon be supplying Portlanders with the organic, cage free eggs they so rightly deserve.

I should take a moment here to commemorate a milestone: Macerating Shallots has now surpassed Tha Angry Liberal in its number of posts! I haven't been posting over at tha lib for a while now, but still, it's a big deal for the new blog. Many thanks to all of you for reading. Now go do something productive, already!

Ladies and Gentlemen, we have vegetables!

My plants out back are already beginning to set some fruit. It's sort of hard to see, but in the center of the photo there's a pretty good sized Oregon Spring tomato. Here's a shot of the other Oregon Spring bush:


I've got a couple small Green Zebras, and the San Marzanos are starting to produce as well. Nothing from the Siletz yet (that was the last tomato plant to go in), but it shouldn't be long before I see some results there. I've also got some snap peas:


There's a little activity going on over in the Zucchini and Cucumber departments, but nothing worth a photo yet. No peppers so far, but they like it hot before they'll produce anything, so it'll be a while on those. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some weeding to do...

Zucchini (and Solanae) Gone Wild!

The zucchini seem to be doing pretty well. Those are they, with the enormous leaves just behind the snap peas in the foreground... It's difficult to see, but behind them are the cucumbers (Burpless and Lemon) and the peppers (Cal Wonder and Red Beauty).

I'm amazed that I'm actually getting any of these plants grow, and yet they are. Exciting stuff. My tomato plants are going crazy, and are even beginning to bloom. I've got Siletz and Green Zebras up front, Oregon Spring behind those, and San Marzanos in the background:


And here we see the herb garden, coming along nicely:


No, I'm not growing any "Herb"... I've got some Basil (Purple Osmin and Genovese), Flat Leaf Parsley, Chives, French Tarragon and Thyme.

I'm astounded that none of these plants are dead yet, as I really have no gardening skills whatsoever. I'm totally flying blind. We'll see how long I can keep 'em going...

Fosters: Preferred by garden slugs everywhere

If you grow vegetables, and you've got slugs (and up here in the Pacific Northwest, we gots us some slugs), you'll eventually need to undertake some slug population control. Fortunately, there's one thing slugs love even more than your veggies: Your beer! So get yourself some Mason jars, or pint-size deli containers, or some such like (leftover plastic cups from your last kegger would seem especially appropriate), recess them into the soil, and fill with beer:


Then sit back and watch the slugs come out to party. Sure, this will kill the slugs, but it's far less toxic than slug bait (except for the slugs, of course), and at least they'll go down with a good buzz on.

A Good Old Fashioned Chicken Coop Raising

Old fashioned, that is, except for the power tools. And the digital cameras. And the pizza. I guess it was actually a thoroughly contemporary chicken coop raising. At any rate, Portland is a town with a very vibrant chicken culture. Within the city limits, you can keep three chickens in your yard with no permit required, and the permitting process for keeping more than three is, I'm told, not a particularly difficult one to navigate. And in most parts of town, folks are pretty tolerant of it. In fact, I've noticed a few backyard coops in my own neighborhood. However, Patrick and Holly, urban homesteaders who moved here from Oakland a few years back, managed to find one of the few neighborhoods in Portland where the presence of chickens brings out the ugliness in the neighbors. So having given up on keeping their own chickens for the time being, they've partnered with Zenger Farm, an agricultural park owned by the city, and the 47th Street Farm, a CSA near the Woodstock neighborhood, in starting up a cooperative egg farm.

I found out about this last weekend, and it struck me as a very interesting project, so I signed on as a volunteer. Of course, it involves free eggs, but what I find really compelling about this is the idea of becoming directly involved in the production of not only my own food (beyond my own backyard gardening), but that of the larger community as well. With growing public awareness of the problems associated with industrial farming, specifically the economic and political costs of intensive petroleum use in both the production and shipping of food, not to mention the recent spinach and melamine scares, I really think that small urban farms, particularly those with some sort of cooperative or participatory element, are the wave of the future (what you just read is what my high school English teacher, Sharon Hunter, would've called a "run on sentence." Guilty as charged. Sorry, Mrs. Hunter!). Initially, this project will involve 50 chickens (raised on organic feed and, I'm assuming, with no antibiotics or hormones), but it has the potential to evolve into who knows what. The eggs will be used primarily to supply the 47th Street Farm for their CSA subscribers. And of course, a few of them will go to the volunteers who take care of the chickens.

About ten of us met up last Sunday at the Zenger Farm, where this is taking place, to hash out a design, and we met up again today to build the first coop. While it's still not finished, the majority of the work's been done, in four hours, no less. Here's the base being put together:


And here's one of the walls being attached to the base:


Here's an interesting, almost noir-ish, shot of Burke hanging out in the barn (he couldn't run free, due to the adjacent wetlands):


And here's Patrick, framed within the (mostly) completed coop:


The coop will be finished off with a sloping corrugated plastic roof, and the sides will be covered in a combination of chicken wire, hardware cloth and canvas. The chickens will roost inside, and there will be nesting boxes on one end (this is where they lay the eggs). The coop will also have a set of wheels which are being fabricated by a local bicycle frame builder, making it mobile so it can be relocated as Zenger's crops are rotated.

And no, I wasn't taking pictures the whole time, I did actually do some work. It was, to say the least, an interesting day, and I'm looking forward to working with the chickens. I'll keep you all up to date on this as it gets off the ground.